


this is the sound of my soul

by momothespicy (momothesweet)



Series: A Hold On Me [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cheesy Love Songs, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Reunion Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Valentine's Day, mentions of reaper76 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 23:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/pseuds/momothespicy
Summary: With everything going on in the world, the last thing you’d expect is finding Jesse McCree home for Valentine’s Day.





	this is the sound of my soul

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE
> 
> Also happy lunar new year I hope everyone is grabbing their loot boxes
> 
>    
> Thanks to [Kelly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kelbivdevoe) once again for yelling with me and for picking out music!
> 
> Here's a tiny playlist to set the mood:  
> Wild Horses - The Rolling Stones  
> Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye  
> True - Spandau Ballet

With everything going on in the world, the last thing you’d expect is finding Jesse McCree home for Valentine’s Day.

It’s a stupid wish, in the way that you’re thinking like a teenager and hoping that your love will come home like what every romance novel tells you. The reality is that you two are adults with demanding jobs. Jesse’s the one who’s always away, doing whatever secret mission Commander Reyes assigns him, while you primarily stick to the Overwatch base in LA, training new supports who don’t know their way around a battlefield or a med pack. It’s difficult sometimes, watching fresh faces grow worn down by the reality of their regimen and their role in this whole fight, but it takes your mind off missing the one good person who makes your life that much brighter.

After another day of target practice and team building, you’re ready to go home. Everyone on the base had some buzz about their boo, the gifts they plan on giving and the plans they have tonight. A few of your more snarky cadets joke about your lack of a partner, which explains your sharp and uncalled for outbursts to get their shit together. At this point, you’re immune to the bullshit. Reinhardt takes charge of handling some mouthy boys while you escape to your office and grab your things. There’s a selfie of you and Jesse on your desk, taken on the balcony of a small hotel in Hanamura. He’s kissing your cheek while you grin at your widest into the camera.

Despite it all, you’re happy. Jesse’s been with you for so long you have no idea how he’s put up with you. Maybe being away for long periods of time helps with that.

You drive home and pass by upscale restaurants with lines going out the door, along with people on the sidewalk with balloons and oversized stuffed bears and several dozen roses. Your plans for tonight are simple—enjoy some leftovers with a glass or two of wine, watch a movie, masturbate, go to sleep. You would call Jesse and ask how he’s doing, but it’s nearly dawn in King’s Row and Reyes probably has him doing recon work, anyway. Never mind that it’s already February 15th there. Just a few more weeks and he should be home, unless Reyes needs to hold another draining four-month mission.

Upon parking and heading to the apartment, you take slow breaths and attempt to forget more of the day. Your co-workers see the day in a more positive light, encouraging the cadets to value love and trust and friendship. Angela is always looking for the good in things, so you can appreciate her for that, especially when she knows how you feel about Jesse being away. Now, though, you’re alone. No co-workers to comfort you or even a pet to snuggle with you. Jesse’s allergies and all that.

Before you open the door, you can swear you hear music coming from the inside. By the sound of it, it’s the song that played when you and Jesse first kissed. The Rolling Stones, if you remember correctly. He took you out to a bad dinner at a diner off Route 66 while you two had a short break in between a manhunt for an international identity thief. There was a jukebox near your booth. “I got somethin’ sweeter than dessert for ya” was his pickup line, which, for whatever ungodly reason, worked out so well. You never looked back.

Keeping your guard up, you put a hand on your holster and allow your hand to hover over your blaster, the standard issue weapon that you haven’t touched in the last few months. Slowly, you unlock your door and push it open, only to find your apartment smelling of cigar smoke, lights dimmed down and the floor covered in rose petals.

Except they weren’t rose petals. Upon closer inspection, you pick a petal up and find that it’s really a ripped up piece of red tissue paper. These are leftover from Christmas and have been tucked away in the closet. You and Jesse’s song continues to play and you continue to cautiously follow the trail of fake rose petals, leading to the empty living room and finally to the source of the music.

In the small dining area, Jesse lights two candles at the center of the table, smoking his cigar and admiring the spread for, presumably, the two of you—a steak dinner, plus a glass of your favorite wine for you and an ice-cold beer for him. You can feel your heart stop when he looks up and puts out his cigar in the ashtray on the kitchen counter. Next to it is his phone, playing the song that clenches your heart tightly. The smile he gives you is enough to send you right to heaven. Donning his best (and cleanest) dress shirt unbuttoned to a borderline inappropriate degree, it’s as if you’ve been sucked into a dream. Forget about waking up.

“Sorry ‘bout the paper,” he says as he comes forward and you drop your purse and backpack on the paper-littered floor. “Had to improvise ‘cause the florist damn ran out of roses.”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Tears well up in your eyes and your brain fights your body to make some kind of move, something to  _ show _ your boyfriend that yes, you’re happy, more than happy, beyond happy to see him here. It happens all at once when you charge at him, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder.

“Jesse,” you squeak.

“I know, sweet pea,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head as he holds you tightly. “I missed you, too.”

You smile, tears streaming down your cheeks and wetting the top of his shirt. It’s definitely his cleanest shirt. He holds you like this for a bit, letting the song play out and allowing you to pull back on your own to give him a long, slow kiss.

Sometimes, you hate yourself for moments like these. Other people wait longer for their partners to come back home. Some don’t come back at all. It’s almost a privilege to have someone like Jesse, strong and capable of coming back unscathed and just as in love with you as he was years ago. You can’t stop crying when you take your breath, sniffling and making the ugliest noises he probably doesn’t want to hear. He laughs.

“I knew you were gonna get emotional, but I wasn’t expecting all this snot on your face,” he jokes.

You slap his shoulder and laugh, too. “Shut up. If I had known you’d be home early, I’d have gone shopping with Angela.”

“Nah. You look as beautiful as the day I met you, baby. Snot and all.”

Instead of slapping him, you cry some more.

 

After hastily cleaning your face and changing into something sort of presentable (if leggings and an old floral top count as presentable), the two of you catch up over dinner. Jesse goes on about the King’s Row mission, the animosity between both sides of the battle and Reyes’s borderline hilarious short temper. Thankfully, Blackwatch’s newest recruit, Moira, has been keeping everyone put together.

“She ain’t as nice or as pretty as you, but she’s kept all of us alive,” Jesse says.

You blush as you take another small sip of your wine. “Aren’t you going in heavy on all the compliments.”

“Damn right,” he says after swallowing a sizeable piece of steak. “I couldn’t get on the phone with you for almost four months. I got a million of ‘em.”

You laugh some more. The conversation is so easy, like everything for this one small moment is back to normal and neither of you is worried about what’s going on outside of this apartment. You tell him about the new recruits and their updated training regimen, how Commander Morrison is taking some advice from Reyes and working them like mad.

“It’s more than overwhelming,” you comment, clearing the rest of your plate and washing it all down with the last of your wine. “And these kids. They don’t understand what they’re in for and sooner or later they’re going to realize that.”

“Heh. So Morrison  _ did _ listen to the old man.”

“Of course he would,” you say, then perk up. “Oh! I was wondering. Does Reyes wear his ring on his finger or around his neck?”

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“His ring!” you say, like this is supposed to be an obvious answer. “Or, ooh, does he not wear it at all? Because Morrison wears his on his finger. Traditional guy.”

“What are you gettin’ on about, woman?”

“Jesse! You really haven’t noticed?” You hold up your left hand and point to your (empty) ring finger. “They did it before the King’s Row mission.”

Jesse stares at you like you’ve just told him the secret to establishing world peace. It’s cute, though unsurprising that this information flew right over his head. Any Overwatch agent who’s even talked to Morrison or Reyes (excluding Jesse) once would know about their relationship. It’s an unspoken fact among co-workers that those two are the most hardass men of the organization. It’s only right that they love each other very much.

“I had no idea,” Jesse says.

“Babe,” you start, pouring yourself another glass of wine, “you can spot an assassin a mile away, but you can’t see how those two are together?”

“I mean, it all makes sense now,” he defends. “Reyes was goin’ on about places to go on vacation if King’s Row wasn’t gonna be a shitshow. So he meant…”

“Uh huh.”

“Well. I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, leaning back in his seat and finishing the rest of his beer.

The M word hasn’t been thrown out there just yet between the two of you. Judging by all the rom-com movie nights you two have endured with the co-workers who joke about it, you figure that it’s something to look forward to with Jesse. It’s just a matter of time as to when he’ll do it, if it’s safe to do so, and if the two of you even get the means to go on a honeymoon. If your two bosses can manage it, there shouldn’t be a problem with you and Jesse. Ideally.

Dessert comes in the form of a store-bought cherry pie, the kind like the two of you ate back at that diner all those years ago. Thankfully, this pie has real cherry filling and not strawberry jam with cherry jello powder mixed in. A few taps of whipped cream on the nose and a few minutes of reminiscing later, you both clear the table. You take charge of filling the dishwasher while Jesse sweeps up some of the makeshift rose petals on the floor. His phone goes back to playing cheesy love songs from yesteryear, serving as background noise.

You shut the dishwasher door and turn the knob. “I’m glad I didn’t find a pile of red paper  shaped like a heart in the bedroom.”

He smiles as he dumps the little red scraps into the waste bin. “I knew you wouldn’t want to clean all that up. Just wanted to lead ya to dinner.”

“You know me so well.” You step up to him after he sets the broom and dustpan aside, placing your hands on his chest and toying with the loose buttons that help expose it. “Treating those support cadets is exhausting.”

“I know, baby.” His voice drops. “I think it’s time you get a little treatment yourself.”

“Yeah?” You feel your entire body flare up. “What kind of treatment?”

Jesse’s hands drop to your hips and pulls you in close. Marvin Gaye on his phone appropriately begins to change the mood, along with Jesse’s gaze that never fails to make you go weak in the knees. “Hmm. The one that involves my hands,” he squeezes your hips, “and my lips.” A kiss on your neck. “And...something big.”

You hold your breath until he gets to his last point, unable to hold your laughter and apologizing wordlessly with a kiss. “Jesse, please.”

“Come on,” he groans, grinning, “you know you like it.”

“I do. I like it very much.” You ready yourself and Jesse is very much prepared to catch you when you hop up and wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. “I think this ‘treatment’ requires you to carry me to the bedroom. Can you do that for me, cowboy?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kissing each other in this position is only grounds to knock something over, so you opt for kissing his neck and running your fingers through coarse brown hair. In the bedroom, the music follows and Jesse makes sure to toss his phone on the nightstand so he doesn’t accidentally step on it because he doesn’t pay attention to where he throws off his clothes. He drops you on the bed first, and you give him the tiniest of shows by spreading your legs and thrusting your hips up.

“You know,” you say softly, “I was planning on getting myself off if I didn’t know you were coming home early.”

“Really now?” Jesse says as he unbuttons his shirt, “What were you gonna think about?”

That’s a good question that elicits a variety of answers. You could tell him just about anything related to him and he’d find it hot. At some point, you’re pretty sure you made up a fantasy and Jesse thought you two really did do all of that. Given that tonight is a sweet reunion and celebration of love, you go for something relevant to the moment and mood. 

“I was gonna think about you, silly,” you say, sliding your hand between your legs, “and how good your cock feels inside me. Fuck, I’ve missed it.”

“Bet you have, baby.” There’s a raggedness in his voice, indicative of how much he’s missed this, too. He keeps his eyes on you as he continues to take his clothes off, watches your fingers stroke up and down your pussy while you sigh his name. “You’ve just been using your fingers this whole time I was gone?”

You nod. “And a vibrator on my clit.”

“The big one?”

You nod again. “I scream your name so loudly the neighbors think you’re here.”

“Fuck.” Jesse practically tears his pants off, taking his underwear with him to show off his already-hard, thick cock. “You gonna get mad if I come too soon?”

“Oh my god.” You smile and remove your top, giggling when you grab your tits then beckon him to you. No need for any underwear beneath your clothes since you knew they were all going to come off, anyway. “You’re saying that you, Jesse McCree, can’t last two seconds in bed with his girl?”

Pushing his buttons is one of your favorite things, because now he approaches you with a predatory glare. He peels your leggings off and finds your bare pussy, wet and ready for his fingers or his mouth. Not his cock just yet; years together and you still need to go slow when it’s time for all of that to happen.

“Look at you, already soaked for me,” Jesse observes as if he isn’t about ready to burst all over your stomach. He runs two fingers up and down your pussy and you whimper his name. Hulking over you, he kisses your neck, dragging his lips down your skin and running his tongue over your nipples. Every nerve in your body is alive and active; when he slips one of his fingers inside you, your soul shoots into overdrive.

“ _ Jesse _ ,” you moan, his finger pumping in and out before he eventually adds another finger. His lips haven’t left your skin either, littering you with all the kisses he hasn’t been able to give you for the last several months. You could come just like this, especially when he massages your g-spot so tenderly, but he pulls his fingers out before you can, much to your displeasure.

“Say my name again.”

You hook your arms under his and press your nails into his shoulders. “ _ Jesse _ .”

The tip of his cock slides over your clit. “One more time, baby.”

“ _ Jesse!” _ you cry, wrapping your legs around his hips and attempting to pull him in. Your nails press into his tough skin, doing all you can to drive him just as nuts as he’s making you.

His laugh is much darker than when you two were talking over dinner. He gives you what you want, pushing his cock slowly until you’re absolutely, positively filled. “Overwhelming” isn’t a strong enough word to describe how you feel. There’s so much more to this than pure lust. When Jesse looks down at you, you’re able to break through whatever roughness is in his eyes and discover nothing but the love and devotion he has for you. Your heart swells and you could cry as he kisses you, all the while he moves his hips in and out, skin slapping against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too.”

You’re far from mad when he comes unexpectedly and, indeed, too soon. One minute, he’s kissing you and telling you how tight you are in your ear. A second later, his hips stutter, cock twitching inside you as he paints your pussy white. Rather than exasperation, you’re on the way other side of the emotional spectrum, elated when he makes up for his sudden orgasm by rubbing your clit and going back to his dirty talk you like so much.

“Come for me,” he says, hot breath in your ear that shocks your spine. He groans your name like a magic word, then punctuates it with an “I want to feel my sweet pea get  _ tight _ around my cock.”

There’s no way you can keep yourself together after that. Time after time, Jesse’s never failed to make you come every which way possible. He just so happened to choose wisely because he knows you haven’t heard his voice in forever. You moan his name again, repeatedly, clinging to him when you come and bringing him impossibly close when you pull him in by your wrapped legs. You’re sure you’ve left some nice, red lines on his back thanks to your nails, too.

You can’t be in this position forever, though. Unraveling, you drop all your limbs to the sheets, thrusting your hips up again, but not out of arousal. “Mm. Let me breathe, cowboy. I’m no good to you dead.”

“Sure ain’t,” he snickers, giving you a quick kiss before he pulls out and plops next to you in bed. “Fuckin’ hell. Remind me to tell off the old man next time he tells me we gotta leave for four months.”

“Or more,” you say, taking a moment to turn with a wince and curl up to his side. The lower half of your body is a mess, but you’ll take care of that in a second. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have now, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He puts his arm around you, both of you enjoying nothing but your breath and the croons of...Spandau Ballet? 

The tell-tale guitar riffs and iconic chorus catches your attention in the best way. “You put 80s music in our fuck playlist? Thought you weren’t into that.”

He snorts. “Guess who convinced me.”

Knowing Blackwatch, Moira had classical music in the background the one time you visited her new lab and Genji would prefer anything ambient, if not silent. That only leaves one other person, who surprises you, too. “Reyes?”

“Heh. Yup. Fuck that gu—oh, shit.”

“Hm?”

“His finger, baby.”

You sit up and look down at him. “What?”

“Reyes wears his ring on his finger. I saw it once when he took off his gloves. I remember now. He’s a traditional guy, too.”

“Ah.” You smile and take his hand, pulling gently. “Good job, memory master. Now help me get to the bathroom so we can shower and sleep.”

No arguments there. The rest of the night is fairly quiet, his playlist long finished and the sickly sweet words all exhausted once you two shower together and get ready for bed. You suppress any aching thoughts about how you can’t always have nights like these; Jesse could get called up the next day and leave your side again on short notice. Or, someone will turn the tables and it’ll be you who has to be away from home for so long. None of that has any right to be on the front of your mind right now.

Back in bed, you kiss each other goodnight and hold hands as you both fall asleep. Jesse mutters a “Happy Valentine’s Day,” a cute and very last-minute sentiment that has you smiling into his shoulder before you knock out.

 

Morning comes way too soon. Your heart stops when you wake up because your personal human heater is not by your side. However, the smell of bacon filling your nose leaves you relieved and still alive. You press your left hand to chest, making sure that yes, your heart is still beating and this isn’t some ghost story Reinhardt likes to tell to scare the cadets.

Just when you’re about to fall back into bed and wait for Jesse to come over and get you for breakfast, you feel something heavy around one of your fingers. Blinking away the last of the sleep from your eyes, you look down and hold out your hand. The base of your ring finger houses a silver band decorated with a sizeable heart-shaped diamond. Surrounding it are round, smaller diamonds. The ring fits perfectly.

Tears well up in your eyes when you stumble out of bed and run to the kitchen to confront him.

With everything going on in the world, perhaps you and Jesse McCree can be traditional, too.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm usually a very bitter and sad person on Valentine's Day, especially with these last few years, so this was a really good way to cope. 
> 
> Wishing everyone well and having a good time with either their significant others or pets or chocolate or whoever matters to them <3
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, feedback and cherry pie are greatly appreciated! <3
> 
> [Tumblr ](http://shoujomomo.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](http://twitter.com/iwaizumiii)


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